


A Walk at Midnight

by falafelfiction



Series: Secrets and Whispers [6]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falafelfiction/pseuds/falafelfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaius becomes worried when he finds Felix in his office late one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Walk at Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Most of my BSG fic was written in 2008/2009 and posted on my livejournal. I'm uploading it to Ao3 for posterity.

Gaius and Caprica lay together on the mattress, a stretch of cold space between their bodies. They never slept in each other’s arms anymore. She didn’t sit in his lap or stroke back his hair. Even sex between them was becoming sorely infrequent in this fourth month of the occupation. For the first time in his life, Gaius was losing his drive for it. Depression and nervous exhaustion were taking their toll on his desires. Caprica was similarly passionless and unengaged. She lay curled on her side, her back thrust at him. She said she was trying to sleep and Gaius didn’t know how she could. He was sitting up in bed, his shoulders propped against the headboard, a lit cigarette dangling from his limp fingers. There was a glass of ambrosia on his bedside table. It was helping to numb him. He had run out of his pills.

“I just can’t sleep with my head in this state,” Gaius complained.

Caprica sighed. “Have Gaeta stop by at the hospital tent tomorrow,” she suggested, her voice betraying how bored she was with his whining. “He can ask Cottle for another jar of your prescription.”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll do that,” he nodded. “I’ve been meaning to ask him all week as it happens. It’s just so hard to talk to him these days. He’s always busy with something. I worry about him, you know...”

Caprica yawned. “Poor Gaeta,” she remarked blandly. “He gets so serious over everything. But he means well. He’s trying to save the human race. Just like we are.”

Gaius rolled his eyes. He was so sick of her delusions. He had come to loathe that singsong voice she used whenever she wanted him to remember that she had come to this planet on a divine loving purpose. When Caprica spoke this way her voice always sounded like a plea. She didn’t want him to point out that her cause was failing miserably. She didn’t wish to acknowledge the truth.

It was the same when Caprica talked about Felix. She did her best to appear accepting of him. She said that Felix was sweet and helpful and she was glad that Gaius had such a good friend. For the most part she treated Felix like a novelty; a little toy that she allowed Gaius to keep around his office, a comfort that could easily be taken away if he displeased her.

“The Cavils think we need to monitor Gaeta more closely,” Caprica continued, a hint of threat creeping into her voice. “He’s so restless. We’ve tried to curtail his duties, but he still always seems to be doing something.” She yawned again. “They sent one of the Eights to visit him in his tent a few nights ago...”

Gaius frowned. “An Eight? You mean Boomer.”

“No, not her...Boomer still isn’t comfortable around her old crewmates, especially those who witnessed her shooting the commander. No, it’s one of the Eights that works for the justice ministry. Gaeta has been snooping around the detention centre for weeks now; trying to find out who is being held there, asking after people who have gone missing. Of course, we can’t give him clearance. Many of our prisoners are ex-military. He would want to get them released and we can't afford to free terrorists, Gaius.”

“Then what’s the point of this Eight paying him visits?”

Caprica shrugged. “It keeps the situation under control. We can let Gaeta believe that he is helping them when really he is helping us. We want to keep him on our side, Gaius. You’re right. He is very useful. Once the insurgency has died down I’m sure he’ll feel less conflicted in his loyalties. We just need to give him a little hope.”

“False hope, you mean...how charitable of you.”

“Well, that isn’t the only reason,” she added playfully. “Personally I think Gaeta would feel happier if he had a companion. He’s jealous of the connection we share, have you noticed Gaius? I feel sorry for him. He works too hard and he’s so lonely. Maybe the Eight could help him to relax every once in a while?”

Gaius narrowed his eyes. “I’m not so sure she’s his type.”

Her lips hitched in a smirk. “Well, I suggested they might send a Leoben or a Doral. But Gaeta only seems comfortable around the Sharons. I guess because he trusted the Eight models that he knew on Galactica.”

Gaius shook his head, taking another slug of ambrosia. Caprica’s transparent attempts to keep her competition busy were so childish and embarrassing. But what made him more nervous was this Eight and how she intended to use Felix. He opened his mouth to question the matter further, but Caprica hushed him with a stern glance.

“Don’t worry about Gaeta,” she said.

Gaius nodded weakly, realising this was a command, not any form of comfort. Caprica didn’t want him thinking or feeling too much in regards to Felix. As she often told him, she had given up a lot to be with him. She couldn’t accept any rivals to her affections. She expected Gaius to pretend that Felix wasn’t on his mind. She wouldn’t tolerate Felix having a place in his heart. His heart belonged to her and she could rip it out of his chest if she needed to.

The trouble was after this conversation Gaius was even more concerned for Felix. Caprica rolled onto her stomach, hiding her face in the pillow. She was determined to sleep through this nightmare and only wake when it was over. Gaius wished that he could lie down beside her, but the dictates of his conscience wouldn't allow it. Most days he tried not to think of that detention centre or the terrible things he suspected were happening within its walls. It sickened him to think the cylons might use Felix to aid their penal system while making him believe he was saving the human inmates. Gods, was that really what Caprica was suggesting? Were they brainwashing Felix? Were they abusing his trust and hopes so abhorrently?

Gaius swung his legs over the side of the mattress. He hunched over his knees, rubbing his forehead. He forced himself to swallow the rest of the ambrosia and smoke two more cigarettes. He glanced over his shoulder at Caprica. Yes, she was sleeping now. She looked beautiful when she slept; this woman who he had loved, this woman who had ruined his life and destroyed his home world twice over. Yet there was part of Gaius that still loved her even now. In spite of everything Gaius had to wonder if Felix felt the same way about him.

A noise. A shuffle of footsteps over his office floor.

Gaius frowned, rising from the bed. It was long after midnight. An intruder in the Colonial One at this time was most likely to be an assassin come to murder the President in his bed. Gaius was surprised how little he cared. He was too numb and weary to fear for his life. He crept to the edge of the doorway and peered into his office. He saw Felix stooping over his desk, searching through his drawers, silhouetted by the dull lamplight. He was dressed in a long black coat and a woollen black hat. His back was turned to the bed chamber.

“What are you doing here?” Gaius blurted. “Felix, it’s the middle of the night...”

Felix flinched at his voice, hunching his shoulders. He still didn’t turn.

“Gaius, I...I’m sorry...” he stammered, his breathing ragged, “I didn't mean to wake you. I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d catch up on some work. I just came to collect the new documents to take back to my tent.”

“Right, I see...” said Gaius, stepping closer to Felix, perplexed by the tremor in his voice. He never usually sounded so shaken. “Well, since you are here...I think you should know I’ve run out of my pills again. I need you to go and see Cottle first thing tomorrow. Tell him I need another jar. These headaches are really becoming intolerable. I swear I won’t get any sleep tonight with...oh Gods, Felix you’re bleeding.”

Gaius caught hold of his arm and Felix finally lifted his head. A long streak of blood ran down from his temples, over his cheek and neck, until it soaked into his shirt collar. His face was pale and clammy. Gaius gently teased away his hat and tilted his head to the side. There was a shallow gash in his scalp, hidden by a cluster of thick dark curls. Dry blood had coated one of his ears.

“Felix, what happened?” he asked firmly.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine...” He tried to pull away, but Gaius tightened his hold on his arm. Felix sighed, his eyes falling closed. “Someone threw glass at me.”

“Sit down,” he instructed.

Gaius led Felix over to the couch and then quickly returned to his desk, searching for the med kit. When he found the little green box he rushed back to Felix’s side, took a wad of cotton wool and soaked it in surgical spirit. He gingerly reached out and took Felix by the chin, pressing the cotton against his head and cleaning the last shards of glass from his wound. Felix held himself still, wincing and squeezing his eyes shut. Gaius could have offered him a stiff drink to soothe the pain if it weren’t for his own dependency; his need to hoard all the booze for himself. Instead Gaius just tried to be delicate in his nursing. He took his time cleaning each trail of blood away from his skin. Privately he was grateful for this opportunity to touch Felix again. It had been months since they had touched.

“What were you doing out walking after midnight?” Gaius asked him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Felix repeated. “I just...I needed some air.”

“Well, it’s hours after curfew. What if the Centurions had seen you?”

“I was careful. I cut through the camp. I kept away from their patrol areas. I was just heading over here to collect my paperwork and...” He blinked, remembering. “There were a group of civilians, drinking in the entrance to their tent. One of them threw a bottle at me. It smashed close to my head.”

Gaius frowned at his use of the term ‘civilians’. Felix still looked pale and dizzied. It seemed the shock of this head injury had caused him to slip back into a military mindset. Gaius wondered if he should read anything more into that.

“Who were they?” he probed further. “Did you recognise any of them?”

Felix turned and glared at him in defiance. “I’m not giving you any names, Gaius. I’m not helping you to put any more of our people in detention.”

“Okay, okay!” he flustered. “Keep your head still. Listen, I didn't mean it like that. I don’t like what is happened to our people any more than you do. But you have to admit these insurgents are going too far. All these hateful violent attacks. It’s not an acceptable form of retaliation. And where does it stop?”

Felix shrugged, not seeming to care where the rebel forces drew the line.

Gaius continued, his anxiety growing. “Today it’s a glass bottle, tomorrow it’ll be a tillium bomb…what if you had been seriously hurt? What if they had beaten you up? What if you had been kidnapped?! Felix, you understand that if you get kidnapped by insurgents there won’t be anything I can do to help you. The cylons wouldn’t allow me to provide any ransom or rescue for you.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to get kidnapped by the resistance, Gaius,” he said dismissively. “Why would they do that? I’m out there every day trying to help the human population. I still speak to those people out there. They might not like that I work for you, but…they know I’m doing what I can.”

Gaius swallowed, feeling a little envious that Felix still had some measure of freedom. He could still walk down the streets of New Caprica and speak with the people of their settlement. He didn't have to hide up here in the Colonial One; away from the sunlight and the air, away from the threat of assassination from his own race.

“They probably mistook me for a cylon,” Felix reasoned, defending the rabble who had assaulted him. “They were probably just drunk and upset. I don’t blame them for feeling that way.”

“I understand,” said Gaius. “Just be careful, okay? I worry about you. I hate to think of you being attacked because of your service to this administration. People…people are so angry these days…”

Gaius sighed and fell silent. He parted Felix’s hair and inspected his wound. It wasn’t deep and it had stopped bleeding now. Gaius resisted the temptation to stroke his fingers through his curls, letting his hands fall from Felix’s face and then packing the cotton and spirits back into the med kit.

Gaius stared down at the blood staining his fingernails. Truly, it worried him. He honestly wanted to protect his people from this terrible situation and protect Felix too. He wanted to be the hero somehow. He was just so bad at it. He couldn’t figure out a way to make things better. There was much he was prepared to sacrifice. He could be the cylon’s puppet; their punching bag, their whore. He could cooperate with them; pacify them. He could take the degradation. He could imagine himself as the last human shield that stood between the cylon occupying forces and the people of the twelve colonies. But for all his agonising he was doing nothing to help. Gaius only had to look in Felix’s eyes to see how far he had fallen from the word ‘hero’.

Gaius realised he didn’t wish to drag Felix down with him. He might be sullied by his sins and failings, but Felix still had a chance to stay pure. He suddenly remembered his talk with Caprica about the Eight. He needed to warn his friend not to trust her. But first Gaius needed to convince Felix he could still trust him.

“It’ll get better soon,” said Gaius reassuringly, trying to breathe some warmth back into their conversation. “There’s hope for New Caprica yet, Felix. The human police are having their graduation tomorrow night. That’ll make a big difference, I think.”

Gaius tried to offer him an encouraging smile, but suddenly there was a flash of emotion over Felix’s face; a look that resembled guilt. His skin was turning pale again.

“You’ll be attending the graduation ceremony, won’t you Mr President?”

Gaius frowned at the stiffness of his tone and the sudden formality of this address.

“Yes...I suppose I’m expected to be there. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” said Felix, no longer meeting his eyes. “I was just doing the paperwork for the graduation this morning. I wanted to make sure that the staff have all the correct information.”

Gaius felt his chest constricting. A shiver passed over his skin. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. There was something disingenuous in Felix’s tone that made his blood run cold. Why should this detail of his attendance be so important to Felix’s ever efficient documentation? Why should he look so worried over it?

“I think you fuss too much over paperwork,” Gaius muttered, his brain throbbing with new paranoia and suspicions. “You spend so much time typing and copying. Is it really necessary for you to be slaving over the ministry files? Why don’t you leave it to the secretaries? You might concentrate on your work in the community…”

Felix's cheeks flushed and a hint of panic crept into his stare.

“Gaius…I have to keep up with the paperwork. It’s just one of many tedious jobs that I do for you. Half the ministry staff have been fired or locked up since the occupation began. The ones we have left have restricted access to government files. So yes, I’m spreading myself a little thin. But I’m doing the best that I can here.”

“Okay Felix. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything.”

Gaius kept his tone sincere and trusting, but at the back of his mind he had already decided that he would look for some excuse not to attend that graduation. Felix forced a smile which Gaius found more unsettling than his scowls.

“I’m sorry for getting angry, sir. I’m just tired and over-worked. I’m worried about the unrest in the camp, the conditions, the disappearances...it’s hard trying to help everyone at once. My first duty has to be to the people.”

Gaius sighed, realising. It seemed Felix had finally decided where to place his loyalties. He could imagine the real purpose behind these walks after midnight. In all fairness Felix had made the right choice; the honourable choice. He knew how to be the hero better than Gaius did. He was clever enough to play both sides and decisive enough to know what needed to be done for the greater good. Yet Gaius still felt the sting of betrayal hanging in the air between them.

“Of course, Mr Gaeta,” he said solemnly. “Our people must come first.”

“I’ll get your pills for you tomorrow, sir,” Felix added, as if he wanted to reaffirm his obedience and servitude. As if he had wanted to do something nice for Gaius before he exposed him to a possible assassination.

“Yes, thank you. And listen, I think you had better stay here for the night. You still look very pale. I don’t like the thought of you fainting on the way back to your tent. I’ll find you a blanket. You can sleep on the couch.”

Felix nodded, careful not to disagree with him. Gaius began to realise that Caprica was right. They would need to monitor Felix closely from now on. What was it that Laura Roslin had once said to him? _Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer._ She had called it the first rule of politics. Surely Roslin had this little tactic in mind during the time when he had served as her Vice President. Gaius decided that he should employ it now with his Chief of Staff. He would keep him close. He would keep an eye on him. And Felix could carry on feeding his little titbits of information to the resistance...but only because Gaius allowed him to do it.

“Try to get some rest,” said Gaius, rising to leave. “I know you probably think I’m being over dramatic, but I can’t help but feel protective of you…we’ve been through so much together, old friend.”

Gaius watched closely and he saw it again; the look of guilt in Felix’s eyes. He couldn't help wondering how much that guilt would grow if he were to tell Felix about the Eight. Gaius decided he would let his clever little aide work that one out for himself. He knew it didn’t make a blind bit of difference whether he or Felix helped the cylons or not. If the cylons wanted to harm the human population then they would do it and there wasn’t anything that could be done to stop them. They were helpless. They were defeated. This planet was no place for heroes.

But it didn’t stop them from feeling guilty. Gaius felt himself retreating back into his selfish shell. He wouldn't be on anyone's side. He wouldn’t share any of his secrets. He didn’t care to relieve Felix of his guilt anymore.

Their guilt might be the one thing they still shared.


End file.
